


bewitched me body & soul

by SSAerial



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Badass!Elena, Depression, Doppelganger, Elena doesn't take shit, Elena has a lot of issues, Elena remembers all her doppelganger lives, Epic Friendship, Family, Gen, Human Elena, Identity Issues, Lots and lots of history on the doppelgangers, Male-Female Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Pre-Canon, Triggers, Who needs romance to save them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4755374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SSAerial/pseuds/SSAerial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She will not lose herself and she will cling onto the name that has defined her for ten years. Elena Gilbert is not going to be the thief of hearts or a plot-tool. No, she will be her own character in this tale, the heroine who will not let anyone dictate who she should be.</p><p>A smile curled her lips, a new one this face has never made.</p><p>Write her own story.</p><p>She liked the sound of that.</p><p>(Where Elena Gilbert remembers her past doppelganger lives and isn’t going to stand being used as a sacrifice or a martyr this time around. Doppelganger mythology, Original drama, the Salvatores, and a whole lot more come into play. Let the dices roll. Let it begin.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. gravitational pull

**Author's Note:**

> I really don’t understand why everybody hates Elena. If not the character, than for the endless possibilities her very existence opens up with how many connections she has with so many people. The Salvatores, the founders, Whitmore, the Originals, Silas, Katherine Pierce, the Bennetts, and even the obscure as freakin hell Travelers. It’s ridiculous what one could do with so much of that data. I’ll probably not be able to do it justice and I can already see future headaches heading my way if I dare go on this path, but damn it, somebody has to do it. So if I really mess up on the characterization or information, please for the love of god tell me. It’ll help so much. I only just got into this fascinating, guilty pleasure fandom so please, help! Well, wish me luck!

Ever since she was little, Elena had always felt too comfortable in her own skin.

Most who hear this would say it’s a blessing. To know exactly who you are and what you’re capable of makes a person confident in their place in the world. It’s a feeling that some chase after their entire lives, self-doubt growing as they try to gauge what others think of them while trying not to look so out of place in a crowded room alone. They look at others with envy at how they make life look so easy when it never is, with their lack of self-consciousness on how they look or laugh or dress to other people.

But Elena’s definition to the phrase was a lot more literal.

An electric charge surging through her bloodstream with whispered forewarnings and wisdom buzzing in her ears. She sometimes felt like she was floating in another plane of existence, her premature young body the only thing gravitating her down to Earth.

It’s a terrifying realization to know how heavily humans depend on their fragile mortal bodies to remain grounded to life.

Despite always on the verge of flying, there was a subtle easiness to her every movement, graceful and so in control that it was unnatural. She felt settled, calm compared to other children who were still in the awkward, anxious stage of wanting to fit their own puzzle piece into society. At the risk of sounding fatalistic, it was as if some part of her already knew with a definite certainty that who she is has already been decided from the beginning.

This awareness vibrates under muscles and flesh, reaching much deeper into her core. A sense of _knowing_ that has been forwarded onto her not in just self-assurance and levelheadedness, but other unsettling ways.

Without thinking, she knew how to make complicated French braids at the age of six after only seeing her mother do it once before heading out to a founder’s party that night. She did the motions perfectly before excitedly showing it to her mom when she came back hours later, who cooed how sweet she looked as Elena swung her tight braid in her face.

Elena didn’t, however, tell her mom that the sensation of her hair being pulled back in such a style felt familiar. She didn’t say how easily dexterous her hands moved without her consent once she figured out the pattern, as if half-remembering something she did a thousand times before.

She also didn’t say how she knew to wipe Jeremy’s skinned knee with a wet cloth before putting pressure on the bleeding wound until it closed when he fell from the tree he had been climbing, the summer heat having made his hands slick and lose his grip. Her father figured with how many times she was at the clinic, she learned it by watching him.

She didn’t tell him he was wrong or that the sight of blood had made her recoil in horror, her mind associating the scarlet drops with some terrible thing that she couldn’t put a name to. It was only when she quickly covered the bleeding scratch with a towel did her breathing become easier, as long as she didn’t look down and refuse to acknowledge the faint scent of copper in the air.

Much to her relief, she was called mature instead of strange, nobody seeming to pick up on the fact that something was seriously wrong with her. Not even her parents, who simply shook their heads and passed off her behavior as ‘part of growing up.’

She didn’t believe in that assessment for a second. She never felt like she learned anything new, as if she’s relearning old skills she recalled from a faraway, impossible dream.

She didn’t know how to describe it exactly. There was Elena Gilbert, a little girl born in Mystic Falls. But then there was something inside her that _didn’t_ feel ordinary, like a supernova just waiting to burst at just the right moment. Slips of the radiating energy keep escaping out of her human body in the form of unexplainable data and capabilities.

It was a maddening chase, to snatch the tiny pieces of starlight that manage to come down to the dirt, just begging to be touched. And some instinctive part of her knew without doubt she had to complete the whole puzzle, that it was her _right_ to do so.

But sometimes, she was afraid to reach for those stars. Because some were tinted with darkness and heartbreaking stories that she didn’t want to recognize.

When Jeremy had been five, he had sighed dramatically at her when she told him to clean his room and jokingly replied, “Yes mom.”

It nearly gave her a heart attack when he uttered that put upon expression at her, some unfathomable part of her retching in agony and staggering _loss_. To both of the children’s stunned confusion, Elena burst into tears and broke down right there in the hallway.

It took nearly half an hour for her to calm down, her brother’s small hands frantically patting her back clumsily as he burrowed her head to his chest. His panicking yet reassuring words did nothing to assuage the onslaught of unsettling possessiveness that clawed her chest mercilessly.

 _Give her back!_ Some part of her screamed. _She’s mine!_

The feeling eventually faded away, always there but muffled under her brother’s comforting arms and sobbing apologies when he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. They clung to each other, both terrified of another episode that started from some phrase that was so inconsequential between siblings.

Their parents had been out grocery shopping, so they missed the whole debacle that had occurred. The two children silently agreed to never speak of it again in fear that talking about it might trigger another bout of hysteria. Jeremy never called Elena mom again, and the word became slightly taboo between them.

But the strangest of all quirks Elena Gilbert had was regarding her appearance.

For some reason, she hated it, absolutely _hated it,_ when someone complimented her.

When adults coo over how adorable her pigtails were or how smart she was, she accepts it with a flattered smile.

But the moment they mention how beautiful the color of her doe eyes were, or how she’s going to be quite a looker when she grows up with her captivating heart shaped face and entrancing smile, something in her balks at the idea. She feels sick at the thought, her stomach turning and her chest thumping wildly as an uncontrollable feeling of dread pounds in her veins. Her feet itch to run, the compliments chaining her down with inevitability that rang deep under her skin, her very soul.

This, more than anything, flat out _did not make sense_ to Elena.

 _Normal_ girls like it when boys tell them they’re pretty in the playground with bashful, starstruck smiles. _Normal_ girls always try to look as appealing as they could, flaunting their bouncy curls in hopes of being the center of people’s attention. _Normal_ girls would kill to have Elena’s willowy body and long legs and sweet face.

But _she_ wasn’t normal. _She_ ran away like the wind whenever boys approach her with flowers and words of awe. _She_ didn’t like to be noticed, and started to hide her features under caps and steal boy clothes from Jeremy’s closet, claiming they were more comfortable.

Her sudden shift in fashion worried her parents but they let it go because who could resist those pleading, big brown eyes when it was angled just the right way? Jeremy was already growing taller than her and he found her odd habit of stealing his clothes to be part of some big game from his weird sister. By the time she was nine, half of his clothes were in her closet and it was the norm to see them arguing over who wore what hoodie for school this time.

If it weren’t for Elena’s long chestnut hair, people from the back would think the two siblings were brothers instead, both nudging and laughing together as they walk to school.

The irrational urge to bolt for the hills ebbed bit by bit as the admiring stares turned to amusement or disdain, the latter from Carol Lockwood and her other high-classed friends, noses sniffing upward when they catch sight of her loose capris pants and dirty sneakers from running in the woods. The boys who once chased her with preconceived views on puppy love quickly banished these notions when Elena punched Tyler Lockwood in the jaw at recess for calling Jeremy Elena’s little ‘boy toy’, not knowing in his young age what that exactly meant while Elena _did._

This is how she met Matt Donovan, who gave her a toothy grin and told her, with an admiring tone, “You have a mean right hook, for a girl.”

His compliment was different than what she was used to and she couldn’t help but grin back. Because he wasn’t praising her beauty, but her actions. And she couldn’t help but feel proud of that.

“You mean _because_ I’m a girl.” She corrected him, chin up and hair tied back with a lavender scrunchie.

The bold words echoed between them and Matt laughed, little dimples and all, accepting the challenge for what it was.

“Let’s see about that.” He responded and Elena ended up playing kickball for the rest of recess. When the game finished, she was sweating like a cow with dirt underneath her finger nails from grabbing the ball so many times and she loved every single minute of it. Matt didn’t even have to ask the next day whether she wanted to play or not, and she proved with vicious vigor that girls could play just as dirty as boys.

For the rest of 2nd grade, she ran with the rest of the boys, like Wendy in Neverland though she refused to be called mother. She and Matt became thick as thieves, unanimously chosen as co-leaders in their little games, partners in every way.

Elena liked Matt. He was solid and down to earth, steadying her when the world was spinning too slowly for her, making her feel too far ahead of everyone else. He was nonjudgmental to the point where it boggled her mind. She even asked him once out of blunt curiosity why he accepted her as she was.

They were hanging out by the monkey bars when she asked him this, both swinging their feet as they sat on top of the monkey bars with precarious ease. He had shrugged, blonde hair shining under the sunlight with baby blue eyes staring at her earnestly.

“You’re different.” Matt admitted freely. “And I like that. Everyone else is so worried about trying to do what everyone else does that it gets tiring after a while.”

“But you,” and then he studied her, as if she was some wonderful delight that happened to fall in his line of path. “I feel like you’re the exact opposite. Like you don’t want to be anyone but yourself and no one else.”

Elena’s breath hitched, heart in her throat.

Nobody gave enough credit to sweet Matt, who was a lot more perceptive than people thought.

Because it was true. She felt this vindictive urge to never be what people expect, as if trying to prove something to herself. The hissing ghosts that haunted her every step always felt like they wanted to seep into her, tear her individuality apart, and stuff someone else in. Sometimes knowing more than she should was a comfort she could fall back on, like a crutch when she didn’t know the next step. Other times, she shuddered at the thought of becoming a creature of habit who would stop thinking twice at what she was doing.

She opened her mouth to confirm his words but ended up swallowing them down. Because she hated showing her weaknesses, even though she knew Matt wouldn’t use it against her. As a consolation prize, she squeezed his hand instead in acknowledgement and the two stayed comfortably quiet until the teachers called them in.

By the time summer came around, she introduced her brother to Matt for the first time.

When they came face to face, the two stared down the other, Jeremy dead serious and Matt equally solemn. Tense minutes ticked by before Jeremy finally spoke, tone doubtful.

“You’re Elena’s friend?” for a six year old, he pulled off the reprimanding parent surprisingly well. Matt straightened his back and nodded politely.

“I am.”

Jeremy’s lips thinned in the same way his father did when he didn’t believe the other person.

“You don’t like her?”

Matt looked mortally offended at the idea.

“Of course I like Elena.” He said, sounding half cross and half bewildered.

“No. _Like_ like her.” Jeremy stressed slowly, as if this should be obvious.

Both Elena and Matt pulled twin disgusted looks at the same time.

“No! Elena’s my best friend.” He stated firmly, as if this is a fact everyone should know. Elena couldn’t help but roll her eyes and smile.

“You got that right Donovan.”

“Can it, Gilbert.”

The two grinned at each other like idiots and Jeremy shook his head in exasperation.

For weeks afterword, there seemed to be a strange, grudging truce between the two boys, much to Elena’s vexation. She ended up dragging them by the ears to Domino’s Pizza, the afternoon concluding with full stomachs and excited talks about the next, inappropriate aged game that’s coming out next month. Elena simply listened as the two talked, feeling content.

It was an idyllic scene, the sun setting with its last rays illuminating the sight of two boys throwing pizza crusts at each other and a little brunette laughing as she clapped her hands with absolute delight.

At the moment, she wasn’t an impossible being scared of her own self, but a girl who loves the two boys who were like brothers to her and wishes more than anything that this happiness can last.

_Because the gut feeling that has led her entire life says it won’t._

**-A-**

_“Hey witch!”_

Elena stopped dead in her tracks and turned to the side where the voice came from. A frown furrowed her brows when she saw three fifth grade girls circling around a dark skinned girl around her age like vultures, eyes gleaming with malice.

Much to Elena’s growing interest, the girl was holding her own, jade eyes flashing with gritted teeth.

“Leave me _alone_ Nina.” The girl hissed, hands balled tightly. The bigger girl smirked, arms crossed and tossed back hair the color of dirty straw. It paled in comparison to Matt’s sandy hair that shined like the golden boy he was.

“Make me _freak_. I heard your mom packed up and left, probably to get away from _you_.” The girl spat out before starting to cruelly laugh, her posse following her lead.

The reaction was instantaneous. The girl’s fierce demeanor shattered into pieces, her frame jerking with a full-body flinch as if she’s been slapped. She shrunk in herself, getting smaller as she hunched her shoulders and ducked her head as if to hide her face. She looked stricken under the curtain of her raven, curly hair.

It was a split second decision that’ll probably make Elena late in getting home, but-

She never liked bullies anyway.

So without hesitation, she tugged off one of her converse sneakers and carefully aimed. She only had one shot at this. A year of playing kickball came into play and the shoe flew in a beautiful arch and hit the side of the bitch’s head with a large, satisfying smack.

The fifth grader went down like a ton of bricks.

There was a moment of dumbstruck silence before all eyes turned to Elena, who was nonchalantly inspecting her wiggling toes as she held up her socked foot in the air to get a better look.

“Woops.” Elena deadpanned. “My shoe slipped.”

She was all the way across the street, twelve feet away.

 _“You!”_ one of the girls shrieked while the other crouched down to check on their fallen leader. _“What did you do?!”_

Elena wondered how many times the girl had been dropped on the head as a baby.

She blinked slowly.

“My shoe slipped.” Elena repeated flatly. “Are you deaf?”

The too high-pitched girl spluttered in response and Elena switched her attention to the bullies’ victim.

The girl was staring at her as if she was insane and Elena couldn’t help but smirk, looking unknowingly identical to her five hundred year old ancestor who was currently running around Philadelphia at the moment. The added wink only added to that effect.

That was the only warning anyone got before Elena suddenly bolted towards the group, unheeded by the lack of one shoe, before latching on to the alarmed girl’s arm before wrenching her from the scene of crime. The two older girls were so startled by the intruder’s actions that it took them a few seconds to process what just happened before they yelled out infuriated screams and started to give chase.

Luckily, Elena had a lot of practice when it came to running and easily kept up her fast pace despite one shoe missing. The girl unfortunately wasn’t so athletic and was gasping by the time they reached the last corner, having lost their tail a few blocks ago. The raven haired girl sagged against the wall and collapsed onto the sidewalk, too exhausted to care that the grime would ruin her green sundress. Elena let out a winded laugh that sounded a touch too manic if the wide-eyed, weirded out look on the other girl’s face was anything to go by.

“Well,” Elena turned to look at her fellow escapee with a brilliant, still slightly mad grin plastered on her face. She hasn’t ran like that in ages since summer started. “that was fun.”

The look the girl shot her way was nothing short of incredulous.

Elena was not dissuaded by the reaction and simply jabbed a hand in the girl’s direction, causing the girl to startle.

“Elena Gilbert at your service.” She announced her identity with utter confidence, chocolate eyes frenzied from leftover adrenaline. The girl gave her a long, wary stare before gingerly grasping her hand and shaking it as if dealing with a time bomb that could set off at any moment. If Elena was in the right state of mind, she would think to herself that that wasn’t far off from the truth.

She didn’t think this though. She was too busy trying not to balk at the burst of energy that slammed onto her with the force of a rampaging elephant, consuming and overwhelming in its potential and power. How she could have possibly not felt this constant humming force hiding in this slip of a girl was beyond her. It was-it was impossible and electrifying her right to the molecule.

_Impossible-_

Impossible like you?

“Hey.” She couldn’t help but flinch back when the other girl’s face went right up to hers, a concerned expression marring the other girl’s face. Both froze at her reaction before Elena’s senses kicked in. She managed to smile, the mask easy to put on and charming enough to ward off any suspicions. Unlike normal spectators however, the girl in front of her did not seemed charmed nor convinced.

Funny. That’s never happened before.

“Haha! Yeah, sorry. I just dozed off there. What’s your name again?” Elena asked with faux sheepishness. The girl's narrowing of her jade eyes clearly told her she didn’t believe any of her bullshit, but she complied anyway.

“Bonnie Bennett.” She repeated shortly.

“Bonnie huh?” Elena cocked her head, deceptive doe eyes razor sharp and looking disconcerting on her nine year old face. “Do you mind telling me why those girls were calling you a witch?”

The word witch was ringing bells to her intuition to the point it was giving her a headache. Besides, she was impatient to know what exactly it was about this girl that was setting off all her mental alarms. A cautious, blooming hope was blossoming inside of her, uncontrollable in its growth.

Maybe this is it. She can finally have some clear cut answers on who- _what_ she was exactly. Why she felt so hilariously out of place in this waking world she has everybody fooled, why she felt so ageless in ways she shouldn’t. Whether she was a freak of nature of just something more. And, though she didn’t want to admit it, whether she was a monster under human skin, something dark in her waiting to come out.

The shadows of those little pieces of herself she finds gives her nightmares of strewn out bodies and blood oozing on the bedroom walls like a perfectly enacted horror scene. It makes her hesitate, the constant ache of pain lacing around her essence, a part of her she’ll never be able to get rid of.

But she’s never been a coward, it’s not in her genetic makeup, and she won’t run away from the truth. She’ll face it head on and can only hope for the best, no matter how badly she may take it.

But more importantly, _maybe she wasn’t alone._ Maybe there were people like her out there who too felt lost and unable to control their own fates, forced to walk among ignorant people who don’t know what it’s like to have hundreds of years weighing their shoulders all the time without even knowing _why._

The very thought made her want to cry. She wasn’t sure if it would be out of joy or sorrow though.

Bonnie looks wounded by the question and she ducked her head again as if ashamed and it made Elena _furious_ with a ferocity that surprised herself.

“My Grams is always going on about how our family is from a long line of witches or something. All that talk is what made my mom go away.” Bonnie mumbled out with a bitterness that shouldn’t hang over someone so young (not like her, she was a different can of worms altogether). There was a cynical derisiveness there, like some part of her blamed herself for her mother’s parting, and it only increased the burning anger that was coursing through Elena’s body.

Because there was proof that this girl had a spark in her, a burning fire in those green eyes before it was extinguished with crippling lack of self-value that could only be the fault of her mother and _that was unacceptable._ This girl, this contradiction of a girl who practically oozed hidden power that rattled Elena’s very bones, _should not_ look so vulnerable and weak.

She wanted to curse that woman with foul languages that itched at the back of her tongue – she really should start writing a damn list, she apparently knew different _languages_ now – but she stalled herself before she could. Because that wouldn’t help the little girl next to her. Lashing out every time some great injustice has been onslaught will only hurt people in the end, especially when she had no right to be this angry.

So she did the next best thing. She tenderly grasped Bonnie’s dark skinned hand and molded it with hers, earning a look of surprise from Bonnie who looked up from her action, eyes still cloudy as if indecisive about whether it will rain or not.

“Then screw her.”

Bonnie’s surprise quickly faded into outrage at his strange girl’s audacity to go straight to the heart of the matter. The jade color was no longer murky but blinking back into severity, focused and no longer broken. She tried to wrench her hand away but Elena’s grip was tight and unyielding like her gaze. Bonnie glared at her, curly hair shadowing her face and cutting her into a threatening figure.

“How could you say that? That’s my _mom_.” she hissed, insulted. Yet Elena could tell she was curious in her answer despite herself. Otherwise, she easily could’ve left by now if she tried hard enough.

“No mother should leave their kid behind. What she did was wrong and you shouldn’t care what she thinks or what her reasons are. This is _your_ life. If she chooses not to be a part of it, then that’s her choice.” Elena hisses out with deadly seriousness, flashing back to when she was seven, having a panic attack at the very idea of being called mom. At the very idea of having such a responsibility slammed onto her shoulders, with heart wrenching grief clawing her insides out.

 _You lost her you lost her you lost her_ the only coherent thought in her head rewinding itself like a mantra.

For Bonnie’s mom to _willingly_ leave her child behind made her blood boil and teeth clench to the point she wanted to snap someone’s neck.

_(The sensation would be familiar. Wrapping her hands around a person’s collar, their heart rate fluttering underneath her like hummingbird wings before she twisted it abruptly to the side, whole body going slack as life left him permanently. Tossing it aside and kicking it away with boredom coloring her every moment for killing yet another useless informant who couldn’t locate where the Original was so she knew where to run away.)_

Bonnie froze at the utter vehemence that spat out of Elena like acid. Elena expected rejection or fear to come next because she didn’t mean to come out that harsh. The memories of the not so distant recollection made her tense and wrung out her nerves. She sighed and finally let go of her grip, setting the girl free to leave her.

That’s not what happened.

Bonnie started blinking back her eyes, misty eyed but for entirely different reasons this time. She sniffed only once before getting a hold of herself and then she _smiled_.

It didn’t look fake. Fragile and on the verge of breaking, but genuinely real in the same way Matt’s were when Elena offered comfort to him whenever his mom acted out.

“Well,” Bonnie cleared her throat, even started to physically rub her neck as if to soothe an aching cough. “are you up for some Ben & Jerry’s?”

There weren’t many times in Elena’s life where she felt completely wrong-footed, but this was one of them. The sudden change of tone from the other girl would’ve given her a whiplash if she had her head turned the other way. Her utter befuddlement must’ve been visible on her face because Bonnie seemed to have to stifle a laugh when looking at her.

“What?” she blurted out with incomprehension.

Bonnie jerked her head to the side, eyes glimmering with amusement now.

“Ben & Jerry’s. It’s right across the street from here. I think we both need some comfort food right now.”

“You’re... not mad?” Elena asked carefully, trying to clear the situation up. Bonnie gave a wry smile.

“A little. But...” she hesitated for a second there before shaking her head, the strength Elena had first depicted when she stood up for herself to the bullies flashing in her green eyes. “I’ve been moping around for weeks now. And I really don’t think it fits me at all.”

“It really doesn’t.” Elena bluntly stated. And suddenly the two burst into laughter from the sheer ridiculousness of the whole day, from Elena’s shoe to Bonnie’s suggestion for ice cream of all things.

And then it hit Elena unexpectedly what was happening here, leaving her feeling slightly dazed.

“Does this make us friends?” For some reason, this question felt incredibly important all of a sudden, as if everything hinged onto the otherworldly girl’s answer. Bonnie tilted her head thoughtfully at this, hair swinging to the side at the movement and her skin turning caramel in the sunlight.

Elena held her breath, waiting.

To Elena’s unexplainable relief, a slow smile curled up the end of the girl’s mouth and she nodded.

“Yeah, I think we are.”

Both grinned at each other the same way Elena would do with Matt, as if sharing a secret meaning in the gap between them.

And somehow, this felt predestined, as if the world was purposefully pairing them together so they would be ready to face the world. Unknowing to the two girls, anyone from 1864 would look at them and think of Katherine Pierce along with her handmaiden Emily Bennett. They would tut and comment with disapproval at how close poor Katherine was with someone of color, the two women sharing sly looks with each other with a history nobody would ever guess of.

And before them, Qetsiyah and Amara, where roles were switched and betrayal was also made known between them. Oh how fate knew how to work with irony.

Elena stood up and held out her hand to a trusting Bonnie, who took it without hesitation. The two headed over to the ice cream store, chatting away under the summer heat and completely oblivious to what’s in store for them. Childhood bliss still hovered over them and even Elena’s intuition wouldn’t see what was coming next.

_Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well._


	2. constellations colliding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow, I didn’t expect to like this plot so much. God, I’m sucked in. Hook, line, sinker. This is ridiculous. And now I’m rambling. (Ahem) Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you supporters and I hope I make headway in getting this story some attention! The way I’m writing in this fic is kind of new grounds to me. Usually it’s a lot less flowery or something? Don’t know. It just fit the tone of the story I guess. Things will speed up a bit, or at least I hope so. Also, Elena is much more different than canon with the added memories, so I hope that doesn’t rub people the wrong way. Because I kind of didn’t like how attention-seeking Elena was? Like, she’s a walking magical being with no way to defend herself as a human and always has someone protecting her? I don’t know, it just doesn’t sit right with me. Okay. Ending ramble. Like, right now. Okay. Well, enjoy the ride!

Elena firmly believed Bonnie Bennett was a godsend. Because for the first time in her brief-ancient life, she felt _solid_.

In a monochrome world where nothing feels real with plastered smiles and useless reputations that crumble to ash at the slightest provocations and rumors (sometimes she wondered if there was a point in putting up believable fronts of sweet girls without the weight of centuries on their shoulders, she’s so _tired_ ), Bonnie was blissfully _there_ in full blooming color.

_And nobody seemed to notice._

That’s the part that baffled Elena to no end, with no small amount of envy. Here was a girl with magic (the word popped in her head without permission and it stuck ever since) running through her veins, yet didn’t seem to be aware of it and was completely unobtrusive in the public eye. It made her insatiably curious of the girl’s abilities, but she refrained from ever probing. Bonnie’s magic may have lured her in, but Elena didn’t want that to be the reason why she was willing to stick around.

_(Using and being used again and again, the cycle continuing and ripping apart her humanity as bitterness and selfishness made her grow cold, ice in her lying smiles.)_

Elena of course had the opposite effect, much to her own dread. She loathed the eyes that always strayed in her direction, how even with the rumpled hoodies and baseball caps that hid her face, and ratty sneakers her parents always insisted she should replace, people still thought her _desirable_. Still the outcast, but undeniably alluring.

 _“She’s just going through a phase.”_ Friends of her mother scoffed dismissively the few times they visited. _“Wish I was that pretty her age. She’ll be stunning when she grows up.”_

Jeremy found her an hour later throwing up in the bathroom, clenching onto the lid of the toilet seat as if it could tether her back to reality and not terrible futures that simply repeats the past. Jeremy silently held her hair back and didn’t ask. She loved him even more for it and feels her third steady friend (first being Matt, and now Bonnie), _guilt_ pool in her stomach. Someone as young as Jeremy shouldn’t have to deal with her – a mess, tragedy, _impossibility_.

In fact, no one should. How she was lucky enough to connect with people so _good_ still boggled her mind and left her helpless.

In the beginning, she liked to think Matt was the golden boy who shadowed her. He was her shield to the world, keeping the gazes at bay with a glare along with Jeremy, who has the same defensive mindset that exasperates Elena endlessly. She would knock their heads together, inducing yelps, and scold them for trying to bubble her in.

“I told you Donovan, I can take care of myself.” She scowled, remembering countless scenarios of being the damsel in distress, the source of central conflict for vague outlines of people who tremble with power and rage. Even now, she still couldn’t see her own adversaries’ faces, a source of ire for her. You can’t protect yourself completely from something you don’t know.

Jeremy opened his mouth indignantly, but it’s Matt who cuts through her annoyance with quiet earnestness that always melts.

“I know. But you don’t always have to.” He said, sincerity screeching Elena to a halt. Frantically, she rifled through paperwork of memories that were all out of order with ink splats all over them. She tried to remember if anyone has ever told her that and was stunned to realize that no one has.

An eruption of emotion entirely her own – _mine_ _mine_ _mine_ – had her knees collapsing as she bawled for the second time in her life right there on the sidewalk. She ached and ached as she sobbed with agony and, for once, a fanning flame of gratefulness lighting up in her chest. She thought back to the centuries of existing alone, surviving but never living as she ran and ran as if it would save her from herself and the nightmares that haunted her steps even now. Always distant and slyly disappearing as frequently as the moon, fleeing from the arising sun.

She could almost feel Matt shoot a panicked look at Jeremy, his face expressing his, _“Oh crap,”_ sentiment profusely. It almost made her laugh.

Jeremy, on the other hand, was used to her strangling sudden outbursts by now. He kneels down and carefully covers her from other people’s view, not bothering to speak comforting words. That’s not what she needed right now.

Matt, bewildered and beyond confused, glanced around with his shoulders already squaring in anticipation for what few people would be out on a late Sunday evening. Standing guard, always watchful and protective for the wild, always running girl and her seven year old brother who knew how to handle panic attacks.

A choked laugh rasped out of Elena. What a group they made.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

**-A-**

Sheila Bennett was an old hat in the supernatural business, despite her best in trying not to get involved with such problems. She kept up with the news that circled around the witches, phone calls and whispers in the night warning her of any possible impeding dangers that may roll into her town.

So to say she was aware of the Petrova doppelganger’s existence was a given.

Mystery surrounded that particular legend, so she didn’t really know much other than the fact Elena Gilbert was an anomaly among the living according to the other side. Fearful hissings and an ominous bloody history lost to rumor and the long dead. The hows and whys have gone and scattered into the wind, picked up and speculated by those curious enough to try. Or have a death wish at least.

Needless to say, she was wary of getting anywhere near that particular pit of vipers and secrets. It was just asking for trouble.

Which made her wonder if the world was conspiring against her at the moment.

Sheila Bennett stared down the Gilbert at the steps of her front door, indecisive and stiff in the face of transfixing, unnerving wide eyes. Bonnie, sensing the racketing tension and the current war between the two supernatural beings, gave a nervous smile to her Grams. Distantly, Sheila noted how the two girls were holding hands, the Gilbert girl’s knuckles white from how hard she was clinging on.

“Grams, this is my friend Elena Gilbert.” Bonnie introduced, anxious to know her only family’s verdict on her newfound friend. It was heartbreaking, especially since Sheila knew better than anyone there was little joy in Bonnie’s current life after her idiotic, wayward daughter left her own child behind without even having the decency to say goodbye, the _coward_.

The doppelganger’s deceptively innocent, doe brown eyes underneath her hoodie were expansive and unblemished. Yet for the life of her, she couldn’t help the shiver that ran up her spine from the unreadable gaze. All speculations of whether or not the little girl was just that has disappeared into a whiff of smoke, bashing away all notions of hopeful ignorance. All of Grayson’s claims that his daughter was just a normal girl who has the misfortune of being the Petrova doppelganger were false.

Because that would make things just too easy.

She fought the urge to sigh.

 _Goddamnit_.

She had half a mind to pull in Bonnie by the arm and shut the door in the Petrova’s face.

But no, she couldn’t. While everything in her was screaming that getting Bonnie involved with the Petrova doppelganger would only lead to possible future dilemmas and turmoil, she knew denying her this would shatter whatever inclination to connect with people obsolete. While all obligations and cautiousness screamed at her to turn the troubling girl away, it would _break_ Bonnie if she did.

Besides, this way, she could keep an eye on the strange figure of myth who has literally and figuratively stumbled upon her doorstep. It would give her time to figure things out.

So despite her better judgement, Sheila opened the door wide to welcome them in.

“Wipe your feet off the mat.” She commanded, one brow raised imperiously. “I just cleaned these floors.”

Surprisingly, that seemed to disrupt whatever reservations had been holding the brunette girl back, because the change to her disposition was immediate. Her frame became instantly relaxed and one hand pulled back the hood that had been swamping her head, letting free the bunched up chestnut hair out in the open. A grin that was all mischief and cunning crept up her face till it made her look almost crazed in its potency.

Without any prompting or warning, the enigma of a girl collided her sneakers together with an audible thunk, back straightening to the point her chest was all puffed out, and gave such a satirizing, snappy solute that it bordered on insolent. The grin tempered into a small smirk that never lost its spark.

“Yes ma’am.” She drawled out, and it was sort of shocking how high and childlike her voice was. For some reason, Sheila had expected something older, ageless.

Though the girl’s cheekiness could match a teenager’s. The observation made Sheila unintentionally chortle.

But she’ll give it a pass this time. There were dimples on Bonnie’s little face from smiling so hard, amusement practically radiating off of her. And from the quick side glance that Elena shot her granddaughter’s way, this whole performance had all been for her friend’s nerves.

It eased some of Sheila’s apprehensiveness to see such signs of care.

So Sheila half-heartedly rolled her eyes and stood to the side, a clear sign to come in.

“Rascal.” Sheila grumbled out, and fully meaning it.

The brunette looked very proud.

Bonnie beamed at the permission, face glowing like a full moon. She tugged the doppelganger’s hand inside and the brunette obliged with a little smile full of odd relief that was disconcerting on such a young face.

“That was amazing!” Bonnie faux whispered, as if Sheila couldn’t hear every word as the two walked ahead. “I can’t believe you sassed back!”

“What can I say, I guess you could say I’m all,” and Sheila could practically hear the gleeful smirk at her next word. “ _Brass_.”

A very audible groan full of disbelief tore through the raven haired girl’s throat. Sheila could see Bonnie loll her head back to stare at the ceiling before shooting her newfound friend a _look_. She looked more animated than she has in a long time.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Bonnie deadpanned. “That was terrible.”

“Well, I couldn’t let the opportunity _pass_.”

Bonnie stopped in her tracks to stare at the brunette in something close to dawning horror.

Sheila chuckled and shut the door, growing more curious about this new girl regardless of the dangers that shrouded her.

She headed towards the kitchen with Bonnie’s exclamations of disgust ringing through the hallways. Sheila set up the sugar cookies that she baked the other day, having thought before that the favored treats would maybe lift Bonnie’s downtrodden, quiet spirits (that _damn_ fool of a daughter).

From the looks of it though, it doesn’t look like she needs to anymore.

Glancing up and catching Bonnie snorting into her hands from something Sheila didn’t quite catch, spring eyes sparking fireworks as Elena lopsidedly grinned triumphal next to her with all previous tension absent, the end of Sheila’s mouth quirked up helplessly. Children laughing tend to do that to people.

“I’ve got cookies.” She supplied, and nearly tutted when Bonnie immediately started to dart towards the homemade clay jar. “Oh no you don’t. Hands washed first, or you ain’t getting any. That’s the rules.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes but complied, Elena trailing behind her snickering with hands neatly tucked into the front pockets of her red baggy sweatshirt. Hair the color of oak swung this way and that as she left the scene, casual confidence in her every step more befitting for a hunter on the move. Cautious and watchful eyes flickering in all directions all with a genuine smile, a certain weight of experience settled on her shoulders that should be _impossible_ , but _wasn’t_.

Just looking at this contradiction of a girl gave Sheila a fierce headache.

She was too old to deal with all this kind of nonsense.

**-A-**

Vicki Donovan would have to be deaf, blind, and dumb to not notice her younger brother’s new girlfriend.

It was the talk of the town on a lowscale. In a small town like Mystic Falls, things that stuck out _really stuck out_. And you couldn’t get more noticeable than Elena Gilbert.

Chocolate doe eyes and silky hair with a matching rebellious attitude that contradicted her cherub looks. ‘Curious’ was one of the more polite ways people described her. ‘Tomboy’ was another.

All she could think the first time she ever heard of the girl was weirdo. But it wasn’t her business, so she banished all thoughts about the little oddball who socialites tutted or gossiped over.

That is, until Matt started hanging out with her.

It started out gradually, and then _really_ obviously. Every time their mom went out with her new boyfriend of the week, Matt started to leave the house more and more, darting out with a quick goodbye to Vicki as he left while she talked to her friends on the phone. It didn’t bother her until she found out _why_.

She was gossiping with some of her friends after school when she saw them at the park, leaning close with the girl’s hair brushing her brother’s shoulder and curtaining her face. She couldn’t tell from the distance whether or not she was as pretty as everyone says.

But she didn’t need to.

There was a certain softness at the edging crinkles around Matt’s blue eyes as he smiled, set deep with fondness and warmth like the sun gazing upon the earth.

It looked like love.

Something in Vicki grew cold at the thought, worry worming its way into her chest and squeezing hard.

She knew how fragile Matt’s heart was. Their mom broke it enough times to leave permanent cracks into her children’s lives that were left abandoned due to her careless and unreliable parenting. Vicki hated her, the feeling visceral and bubbling, ready to explode out of her chest in fits of screams that would let the world know her pain. She was owed that.

Matt, though, wasn’t like that. He buried the hurt and the scars and kept smiling, never showing his weighing tiredness with anyone but her when they’re alone. Kindness deep set in his bones that made Vicki feel terrible in comparison, covering his mother’s drunken body with blankets and throwing away the empty bottles like it was his job. His quiet service was never acknowledged by their mom, much to Vicki’s added fury, but that was never why Matt did it.

He just, he’s so damn _good_. Vicki doesn’t know where the hell he gets it from.

And now, someone was breaking through Matt’s defenses and winning viciously, hands around his throat as they choked all the compassion out of him, taking and taking until he would have nothing left.

Elena was the kind of girl who had everything in life. A dazzling home with parents that were always around, and even a little brother who practically sticks to her side like glue. And now, she was taking Matt, stealing him away to fit him into her little perfect world, leaving Vicki alone due to her greed. Beautiful girls like her always got what they wanted, and threw it away once they were done.

Vicki refused to have Matt be one of Elena Gilbert’s little conquests.

On the first day of school, Vicki marched up to a surprised Elena Gilbert in the empty hallway with steel in her eyes and determination in her set chin. She almost faltered though when she finally got a good look at the girl.

Elena blinked, her magnetic chocolate eyes and heart face making her look delicate and girlish. It was a complete contradiction to her too large black T-shirt that said, “Do you believe in magic?” with musical notes dancing at the front along with rolled up baggy jeans. She’s practically swimming in her clothes, looking scrappy with a tiny scratch visible at the edge of her jawline.

Vicki mentally shook away the observations. Doesn’t matter what Matt saw in this girl, she was still trouble.

“Stay away from my brother.” She practically snarled out, her mental speech thrown out the window now that the object of her ire was right in front of her.

Elena looked completely nonplussed for a moment, like she has no idea what Vicki’s talking about, until recognition seemed to click into place. Something sharp and hard completely shadowed her face.

“No.” she stated bluntly. Vicki couldn’t help but bark out an incredulous laugh.

“You’re not good enough for him.” She hissed out. Unexpectedly, Elena nodded grimly, something like wariness that looked too much like Matt’s crossing her face.

“I know.” she said quietly, as if confessing something she’s known for a long time.

Her answer only infuriated Vicki further.

“You _know?”_ she said, disbelieving. “And you’re still going to drag him down with you? How could you be so selfish?”

Elena flinched, looking as if she’s been struck. She didn’t answer back, looking so pained that Vicki almost felt bad. Almost.

Instead, Vicki shakes her head in disgust. “If you care even a little bit for him, break up with him. I’m not going to stand aside and watch you hurt him.”

Something like horror enveloped Elena’s face, skin so pale she looked ready to puke.

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend. That’ll _never_ happen.” Elena looked close to hyperventilating, panic corroding her features. “I would never do that to him, he’s my _brother_. He’s my _family_. I can’t-I would _never_ -You’ve got to believe me-”

She looked on the verge of tears, her breathing growing shallow as if trying to hold back an anguish years older than herself. Her eyes were gone, distant and unapproachable as if remembering something soul wrenching. Vicki’s struck speechless as she stared at this porcelain girl shattering at the seams as if the very implication of having a relationship with her brother was something dreadful-no, _terrifying_ beyond words.

And she’s, well, she’s Matt’s older sister. Some of that goodness must’ve rubbed off on her because she found herself trying to shush the younger girl’s gasps and let the Gilbert cling onto her shoulders as her knees seemed to weaken from the force of her own sudden emotions. All the while, Vicki’s mind raced.

Once Elena calmed down, Vicki spoke in a much softer tone than before. “If I had known dating my brother would be so horrifying to you, I wouldn’t have worried so much.”

Something close to a smile twerked up the girl’s lips, eyes still blinking rapidly.

“It's not like that between us. He's my best friend, and we don't think of each other like that. And It’s not that Matt isn't good enough or something stupid like that, I just,” she hesitated, looking so small in her oversized shirt that Vicki couldn’t help but soften towards her. “I never want to put people through that.”

It was a somewhat ridiculous statement that Vicki had to snort. “Come on, you can’t be that bad.”

The girl looked at her gravely, her face set as stone. Vicki couldn’t help but shiver.

“You have no idea.” She said with utter surety, experience weighing her words.

A prophecy waiting to happen.

And then the moment broke when Elena told her a bit awkwardly they should go back to class. Vicki took hold of that lifeline and they went on their separate ways. Vicki didn’t mention the conversation to Matt later and neither, it seemed, did Elena. A silent truce has been created, Vicki unable to shake the feeling that whatever the strange girl said to her at the end was something secret, not meant to be known.

The knowledge felt heavy. And years later, she would be the first to figure out why really, _really_ fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review at the end! And check out my tumblr page: aerialflight.tumblr.com. Message or ask questions there if you like. Thanks for reading!


	3. art of bamboozling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so happy I finally updated. I’m going to use this story for Nano, so expect to have many updates this month, I’m really going to try and amp the plot and make it interesting. I have plans people, plans. (cackle) Thank you so much for the support, and I hope you enjoy! Oh, also, I may have to include warnings about mental health cause that’s an issue that’ll definitely pop up. Having more than 500 years of memories for a nine year old would do that to a person. I connect to these issues a lot, so just, be careful.

The whole world runs blind. Jeremy has known that since he was a child with scraped knees and wailing complaints that seem so childish now in the face of what tearing down that ignorance could mean.

When he was four and didn’t know any better, he thought his sister being able to provide answers on anything was normal. He thought her steadiness and too big words was just her, just something every older sister knew, because how could they be good role models if they didn’t? Mom and dad had to know that by saying since he was the second ‘man of the house,' it just meant he had to make sure she actually ate her meals since she forgets, like hunger is a dismissive thing. Something controllable and not needed in the long run.

Taking care of his sister meant giving her sci-fi t-shirts at Christmas with phrases like, _“I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee.”_ or _"Computer, compute to the last digit the value of pi."_

It meant glaring down Matt Donovan the first time they met, because Jeremy knew better than anyone how fragile his sister was when she thought no one was looking. False grins that were too bright, too wild, always _running_ from some karma that keeps dodging her heels like a persistent dog.

To calm her down, he would ask for stories. Instead, she would give him history lessons that somehow sound magical and full of drama, conspiracies and theories hanging in the air and gleefully told like gossip. She would instill the importance of choice, freedom, morality, face wistful and so vibrantly determined that the image would be fixated in Jeremy’s memories for years to come.

She looked so wise, so rarely soft and vulnerable as she quietly told him her hopes of a better world. An idealist, despite all these dark recounting about slavery, death, and the greed of human nature that plagued history and probably would forever.

(Years and years later, he’d wonder why in god’s name his sister would think everyone else were the good ones, when she has always been the personification of righteous justice to him. How was it possible for someone so old and seen so much decide that the human race was still worth it?)

It’s only when he got a glimpse of other people’s lives that he knew something wasn’t right.

He listened to Matt’s stories about Vicki Donovan and felt his stomach lurch at how thoughtless she is, so angry and temperamental like a wolf who howls at the moon in a twisted version of a cry for help (so different from his own older sister, yet so much the same in that regard). He asks teachers what it meant when people (he’s always careful to leave out who) cry at the oddest times, yet be so madly carefree the next day as if compensating for their earlier mood.

Some days, Elena is sharper than a dagger, all edges and sarcasm, a porcupine on constant defense. Others she’s fun and completely unchained, her laughs freer and smiles radiant.

Then there were the days Jeremy hated. When she would shut down, spending after school or on the weekends curled up tight under the covers in bed and so quiet it makes Jeremy jittery. Their parents would let her be indulgently, thinking she’s tired or just being a child.

There are always signs of those days, glazed out despondency in school and the lack of appetite that she always manages to cover up by shoving all the food to Jeremy or Matt as smoothly as you please. Stressed and just so _tired_ , exhausted to the bone yet smiling fixatedly in a desperate attempt to not let anyone know. Jeremy knew better.

Matt doesn’t know why Elena would suddenly cancel their hangouts after school or on the weekends. But he would only have to see Jeremy’s stony face and Elena’s fervent, strained grins and nod in amiable acceptance, concern shining on his face.

Jeremy’s grateful for it every time.

On those days, he would hold her close as they go up the stairs and slip under the blankets and let her cling onto his shirt, eyes red and so _drained_. It broke his heart.

It broke even more when she would always feel guilty after those ‘fits,’ insisting on helping him with his homework afterwards because he spent hours in the middle of the day just laying around doing nothing with her, a subject Jeremy always tries to reassure her it’s something he wanted to do. She always looked even guiltier at that, like being cared for has a price and she’s steadily collecting debt for it.

He knew his dad’s a doctor, but he’s not stupid enough to ask. He would be able to put two and two together. So he one day insisted to go to work with him and carefully asked a couple of nurses what his sister’s symptoms meant, retracting Elena’s name every time. A frown would overtake their features and they’d carefully answer as if Jeremy couldn’t read the subtext on how this person is, “depressed,” that they probably need help. There’s always this underlying worry that would lodge in their tones, and it worried Jeremy even further.

Jeremy snuck into his dad’s office while he was off at work and looked through the too thick books until he found what he was looking for.

He felt deep rooted fear when the book said there are cases of depression where victims are in danger of committing suicide. A term he didn’t understand until he checked the dictionary.

It’s cold, clinical description of killing yourself ten folded Jeremy’s numb shock and panic at the very idea of his sister, strong yet so much like transparent glass, ever even think of committing such an act.

He hurriedly cleaned up the books with shaking hands and ran towards her room as if his heels were on fire.

She was at her desk, writing away in her fifth notebook that Matt got her on her tenth birthday. Her hair was held up by one of her little scrunchies, a glimpse of how she isn’t completely the tombody everyone thought she was. She looked up, eyes turning sharp when she saw him, as they always did whenever something was wrong. Without thinking, Jeremy practically leaped onto her and clung onto her like there’s no tomorrow.

It was quite a role reversal from their usual routine – they had a routine, that’s probably not a good sign – and she was so awkward when holding him that he wanted to sob. Funny how it’s usually Jeremy’s job to comfort her and not the other way around.

But _no_ , no. That’s not why he came.

So he jerked his head up, almost bumping her chin in the process, and proceeded to plead as if- _because_ her life depended on it.

“Promise me you won’t die.”

She stiffened almost immediately and looked sort of shocked, a tremendous feet considering nothing ever seemed to surprise her.

“Jeremy, what-”

 _“Promise me.”_ He demanded. His grasp on her army green shirt was growing tighter by the second, as if clinging even harder would pull her back into his orbit, or have him stay in hers which sounded more accurate.

She hesitated only briefly before bluntly telling him, “I can’t.” in a pained voice. Jeremy’s almost relieved by her honesty, because that only proved even further she would never try to break a promise.

But at the moment, it did nothing to assuage his running panic.

“Then, then promise me you won’t kill yourself. Or let yourself be killed.” He tacked on. He knew all about loopholes with how sly his sister could be with words. (Such a contradiction, his sister. It’s like talking to several people at once sometimes.)

She looked at him for a long, very tense moment, and sighed.

“You idiot.” And then she ruffled his hair, the action full of warmth and exasperation that Jeremy let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “I promise. As if I could ever leave you behind.”

She grinned, and everything was right with the world.

(He would really, really hate her latter words later. It was the first time she was wrong.)

**-A-**

The first time Elena introduced Bonnie Bennett, Matt for the life of him couldn’t see why Elena was so utterly entranced by her – a notion she denied with cutthroat efficiency that spoke more volumes than words ever could.

She was nice, Matt could definitely see that. But she was so nervous when meeting them, wringing her hands and ducking her head shyly in a manner that Matt first thought would’ve drove Elena insane. She had a certain distaste for girls who giggled over boys and boys who stumbled with her. And the way Bonnie had glanced up and flushed at the sight of him definitely reminded him of that kind of behavior.

Matt was much more tolerant than Elena, and much kinder when it came to dealing with other people’s preconception of Matt and Elena being a couple. He still didn’t get why though. He would’ve thought throwing mud in Elena’s face at the playground and proceeding to get tackled to the ground at kickball as payback would’ve banished any notion of them _like_ liking each other. But apparently, people were blinder than drunk bats.

Sure she had a backbone when it came to games, surprisingly very competitive when it came to winning. Unlike Elena though, she really didn’t atone to cheating and they had to cut back most of the dirty tactics they used in their mini wars.

“She’s very upstanding.” Elena once said with something close to admiration, grinning with pride that had Bonnie blushing furiously. Matt knew the feeling.

But there’s something, well, _special_ with the way Elena treated her. She’s more delicate, soft for lack of a better word. He didn’t resent Bonnie for it, but it made him wonder just what it is about her that had pulled Elena in and not the other way around. He could almost convince himself that he was just worried with how much Elena’s letting Bonnie in, gambling in a way she never did with other people.

Jeremy caught him once staring at the two of them as Elena fussed over the scratches on Bonnie’s hands, so careful and almost motherly that it caused something to ache in Matt’s chest.

“She loves both of you, you know.” Jeremy said out of nowhere. His words nearly caused Matt a heart attack.

“It’s not like-”

“I know.” Jeremy rolled his eyes, looking uncannily like his sister. “It’s not like that between them either.”

It took a few seconds for Matt to catch the implication. He nearly gaped at the very thought.

“Does she,” he cleared his throat in embarrassment as his voice nearly squeaked at the first two words, fighting for composure. “does she like, uh, girls?”

Jeremy gave him a _look_. Matt flushed.

“Does she look like someone who likes _anyone?”_ Jeremy said, deadpan. He stared at Matt thoughtfully as he squirmed. “Do people get more stupid when they get older?”

Matt fought the urge to blurt out anything because that was actually a very good question he’s been wondering about for a while. He’s never met Elena’s parents, now that he thought about it. What did they think of their crazy daughter too big for this world or his?

Scared? Stunned? That’s pretty much Matt’s experiences since the moment he met her a year ago.

So he just settled for an, “I don’t know.” There was a pause. “How do you even know about any of this?”

Jeremy shrugged. “I read a lot of books in my dad’s office. And Elena really likes to get into the equal rights part in history. For race and sex and stuff.”

Matt couldn’t help the rising blush even if he tried at the word. Sure he heard his mom say it a lot in the house over the phone, but just, that was his _mom_. For Jeremy, who’s a couple years younger than him, to say it so casually was incredibly disconcerting. Matt guessed it was because he had Elena as a sister. She’s whether capable of convincing someone the sky was polka dotted, or so callous that he gets second hand embarrassment at how unashamed she was.

Jeremy started laughing at him in the face and that pretty much led to the scrimmage that left them with ringing headaches from how hard Elena banged their heads together before barking out to knock it off. Bonnie chortling in the background was just an added humiliation.

Still, he wasn’t quite over the revelation that it was possible for people to not have crushes or like the idea of falling in love.

He tried to look up books in the library, but he got a lot of distasteful, weird looks from the librarian when he did. He finally gave up and just went to the source of his curiosity to ask, dragging them both in an empty booth in a diner for some privacy.

Elena blinked at him, face somewhat blank.

“You want to ask me about my sexuality.” She said flatly. Matt knew it meant she was completely confused. He nodded.

She wrinkled her brows and stared out the window, seemingly pondering over his question. He was finished with his second waffle by the time she finally answered, voice considerate.

“I’m ace.” Seeing his nonplussed look, she extrapolated a little more. “Asexual. I don’t want anyone like that. Ever.”

There’s a hard note in her tone, daring him to argue. Her shoulders are tense, as if she’s readying herself for a fight. His next plan of action wasn’t even a hard one to make.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

There’s a moment of silence before Elena blinked at him, cautiously lowering her guard.

“Okay?” she repeated carefully, watching him with flinty brown eyes that people thought were innocent.

“Okay.” He said firmly. He didn’t need to know if she didn’t want him to.

They both went silent again, only this time it felt comfortable, just them in their own little world as they finished up the syrup bottle. Her smile as he gave up his strawberries was deeper than usual, gratefulness and relief evident when she nodded in thanks.

 _You don’t have to thank me._ He wanted to say.

He didn’t and they kept eating.

**-A-**

Caroline Forbes was completely, utterly in love with Matt Donovan, her future husband.

Blue eyes, sandy blonde hair, an easy smile and laugh that lit up the room wherever he was. He was an absolute angel, the perfect boy.

The perfect boy who was already taken.

She glared daggers at the brunette that was currently talking to Matt on the swings, willing the sun to set the girl on fire where she sat. It unfortunately did nothing except strain her eyes from how hard she was staring at the pair.

Elena Gilbert. She almost wanted to spit out the name like a curse. The center of envy for all girls around her age. She wasn’t even dressed properly for crying out loud! With her baseball caps and frumpy looking clothes that looked like something she picked out of a third hand shop.

And the _shoes_. What was going on with those _shoes?!_

And-And she was just so rude that it made Caroline want to strangle her! How could anyone not care when she slept during class at the back of the room, or how she completely ignored the teacher in order to doodle or write in her secret little notebook that she has on her constantly? What was up with that? Worst part was how whenever the teacher called her out, the brunette would just smirk, answer everything correctly in quick order, and go straight back to whatever she was doing before.

The moment the teacher would threaten to call her parents, the Gilbert girl’s face would turn completely innocent and say she did nothing wrong, turned in all her homework, and she really didn’t want to bother her dad at work and mom who was currently visiting her sister?

The act drove Caroline ballistic every time it worked like a charm.

Just, she’s a menace to society. How was it possible for Matt to not see that?

Sure, he wasn’t in any of Gilbert’s classes – she checked – but _come on._ It’s right there, staring at people in the face. He could do so much better than her! Heck, it wasn’t even about Caroline anymore at this point, it was just the principal of the matter. Why the frackity jeepers did he pick her of all people?

She never thought she was capable of hating a person two years ago until she had Elena Gilbert in all her classes. The girl never even noticed her (something Caroline took personal offense to), even when Caroline had tried to invite the girl into conversation about who’s cute and who’s not. The brunette just gave her a blank look and steadfastly ignored all attempts until Caroline admitted defeat.

And then came the clothes. Just, it was a monstrosity to fashion everywhere. It’s like she’s _trying_ to destroy herself socially, cheese and peanut butter crackers. Caroline liked to imagine that she and Elena Gilbert were prime examples of the opposite spectrums of how a girl should act and dress.

And yet. And _yet._

Somehow, someway, Elena caught the attentions of Matt boyscout Donovan. By punching his friend Tyler Lockwood in the face.

Just, _what in seven shopping malls of heck._

There were days when Caroline would look at her and then herself, and ask, “Is there something wrong with _me?”_

Was that it? Just, was she not naturally pretty enough for other boys to notice her? She’s trying so hard to catch people’s attentions yet here Elena Gilbert was, wearing ugly clothing and acting unlady like as possible, but still catching people’s attention without even trying. People stare at her, people _notice_ her.

The knowledge that she would never be enough wasn’t going to stop her though.

After all, all you need is perseverance and hard work, and everything else pays off. She just knew it.

It would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review at the end! And check out my tumblr page: aerialflight.tumblr.com. Message or ask questions there if you like. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also, everyone, stay safe out there.


	4. bouleversement experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so relieved people are liking Elena and the relationships she’s formulating with other characters. I really connect with this version of her, so I’m glad other people get her too! Also, platonic relationships are very, very important to me. I’d like to think while romance is important, it isn’t the end for all best relationship in the entire world. Friendships can last lifetimes and are the backbone of people’s support systems. Also, Ace!Elena is becoming a favorite headcanon of mine. This is great! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please comment on the way out! Things are going to get interesting soon.

Bonnie has been told she’s a very accepting person. Compassionate, her Grams would say with fondness and worry, because that’s the kind of trait that gets exploited and used until the person breaks under pressure and lose all sense of hope.

(Someday, Bonnie would look at Damon Salvatore, see how subtle he is with his own devoted, unbeating heart, and wonder.)

Selfish too. Holding on so much that when the tightrope snaps, it leaves her feeling hollow and in fear. She was lonely and on the verge of losing faith in people. What does it mean, after all, for her own mother to abandon her? Who would ever love her if her _own mom-_

This circling, tearing tangent would’ve continued if it weren’t for the whims of a mad little girl who took chances and leapt not due to faith or logic, but pure unadulterated impulse.

Elena Gilbert. A girl who threw shoes at people she didn’t like just for the heck of it and ran like every step was an adventure. Elena Gilbert, who told her over their ice cream cups that she helped because she liked Bonnie’s spark, as if she’s something wonderful and amazing that Bonnie for the life of her couldn’t see. Elena Gilbert, someone who she just instantly clicked with as if it was meant to be. A fairy tale all wrapped up in a little brunette who thought pockets were the best thing next to ink pens.

_(“Oh come on! Pencils are so frustrating, just, what’s the point of erasing words? It’s like killing off part of the thinking process!” Elena sniffed, arching her nose up just to make Bonnie snort into her palm. She was a ridiculous person. There’s a real, passionate gleam in her eyes though that told Bonnie how much the subject raised Elena’s sense of indignation. She gets irritated by the weirdest things._

_“Well, people usually don’t like to show their mistakes, even to themselves.” Bonnie pointed out reasonably. Elena’s mouth twisted downward at the words, eyes narrowed considerately._

_Bonnie resisted the urge to sigh._

_It’s hard to talk to the brunette. Every conversation felt like there’s a double meaning to it, a big question mark lingering in the back of her head as if something important occurred, but she just missed it. This happened way too many times to the point of aggravation._

_She sometimes speculated what runs through her best friend’s mind, and gives up halfway through. She didn’t really want to know.)_

When she told her Grams about the strange girl afterwards, she didn’t miss the odd look it earned her when she said Elena’s name. Something close to distrust if Bonnie was forced to describe the expression.

Bonnie almost felt like scolding the older woman for listening to all that gossip about her tentatively new friend, when Grams told her a thousand times never to judge a book by its cover and to form your own opinions based on what you see and know, not what other people think.

So when her Grams oh so casually told her to invite Elena over, of course Bonnie was suspicious and a little nervous over what her Grams was planning. The flickering look of wariness that had crossed Elena’s face at the offer didn’t really help the issue, considering how unafraid the girl appeared to be most of the time. And when they actually met, well, Bonnie couldn’t have been more relieved at how Elena somehow passed the older woman’s test.

A test of what, Bonnie didn’t exactly know.

The rest of Elena’s friends were surprisingly normal yet unsurprisingly unique in their own way.

Matt was, without question, the nicest person Bonnie has ever met. It’s baffling just how open and kind he is, though he seemed a bit uncertain and taken aback by Bonnie, for some puzzling reason. Even with those conflicting feelings, he was a warm presence who always tried to involve her in their little misfit group that consisted of him and Elena’s little brother. It quickly became habit to immediately look to Matt and share rolled eyes at Elena’s antics and rants that she pulled out like rabbits from top hats.

Jeremy wasn’t a loud person by nature. There’s this quiet alertness about him, eyes watching and sharp much like his older sister without the smokescreen that Elena put up without meaning to. His snarky humor matched Elena’s, a Gilbert trait Matt once proclaimed while smirking, which had earned almost identical scowls from both siblings.

Bonnie would be tempted to say Jeremy was the brooding type if it weren’t for how much he loved video games and how other than his deep maturity, he was still pretty much an eight year old kid who had an unholy obsession with biographies and science fiction movies. The amount of times he consulted the dictionary in order to read books that people three times his age wouldn’t even touch is something Elena finds delightfully entertaining.

Still, it’s perplexing to know how little friends Elena has despite her captivating personality, people getting pulled into her orbit as if they couldn’t help themselves. If the universe worked where people were able to see the strings that connect them to other people’s lives, Bonnie’s confident that Elena’s would have millions in all different directions. She creates waves, even when she doesn’t mean to.

 _Especially_ when she doesn’t mean to.

They had once talked about this in idle fashion, the subject cropping up hypothetically in a strange turn of musings that came out of nowhere. It’s a happenstance more commonplace than people think, especially with a friend.

Elena twitched, a metamorphic fox whose ears were tweaking this way and that in an anxious manner before she turned to Bonnie with wide, fervent eyes.

“How many strings would be connected to you?” Elena asked, so intent that it was unnerving. By now though, her sudden mood shifts have been inserted seamlessly into their every interaction that Bonnie was used to it by now.

Bonnie shrugged. “Don’t know. I guess five?” she tried out, trying to be logical about this while counting her circle of friends. Because seriously, there’s no way she’s that important enough to affect anyone. She’s _ten._

Thankfully, that pulled Elena out of whatever mood had struck her this time. She chortled, rocking her head back to stare at the night, inkish sky. They were at the front porch wearing soft wooly sweaters, courtesy of Grams. Elena was sleeping over at her house, an event that Bonnie carefully tucked at the back of her mind. She’s never had a sleep over before.

“How modest of you.” Elena shook her head, grin sly. Yeah, fox was an accurate description. “I’d say at least 20.”

Bonnie shook her head as Elena cackled, the action reverberating her wooden chair and swinging it back and forth.

“And what about you?” Bonnie asked after patiently waiting for her to settle down, curious. This has been bothering her for so long, that she couldn’t help herself. “How many people are connected to you?”

Elena... Bonnie didn’t know how to describe it. A hundred different emotions flashed across her face until a tired smile that looked so ancient and sad rested upon her. There was none of that whimsical craziness or confident assuredness that constantly shrouded her, a thick fog that warded off invaders or insistent explorers.

“Guess I don’t know either.” Elena said, voice hoarse from honesty. She sounded bitter beyond words, as if these strings were choking and trapping her in place, hundreds of triggers waiting to be set off. “Way too many.”

She made it sound like a curse.

**-A-**

“Hi!”

Elena resisted to urge to cringe at the incredibly high, peppy voice that assaulted her from the back. It grated on her nerves like squealing bus brakes against suburban roads. Already, she could feel something close to loathing lurking underneath that subtle tone. She was tempted to run.

_(But that’s all she does, run and run like nothing can catch her, a wind sprite in danger of losing herself to the flow of nature’s attempts to make things balanced and equal.)_

She turns around.

A blonde girl with ocean eyes smiled shallowly at her with detest. Elena frowned, her battered mind trying to remember where she’s seen this girl before. Still smiling fixatedly, the girl merely raised an eyebrow under Elena’s unintentionally piercing look, false confidence puffing her up with hot air. And then Elena remembered.

She remembered the girl – Caroline, she thinks – trying to engage her into conversation, pouting whenever she would ignore her in favor of writing foreign muddled images that refused to leave (a golden light smiles, ice eyes melting, kind words and declarations of not believing in love, _red red red-_ ) going on and on forevermore.

Sleeping in class is the only way she can function most days.

It didn’t help that all Caroline seemed to talk about were boys, fawning over them with swooning, flowery words that sound so desperate to be loved. (It sounds familiar, full of fear and the will to do anything, _be_ anything for others. Elena resisted the urge to be sick.)

One day, she couldn’t take it anymore and finally snapped, slamming her hands on her desk and snarling at the innocent girl who didn’t know any better.

 _“Shut up.”_ She practically hissed out, shaking because those kind of people got hurt too easily, turned into monsters in the night that gave them the excuse to take and take and _take-_

Caroline left her alone. Elena tried to forget about the incident.

And now, well, the blonde was part of the mass again, her eagerness to unfold the mystery of Elena Gilbert killed in the aftermath of Elena’s tempestuous outburst. For once, guilt didn’t devour Elena and spit her out. Instead, she was _angry_. Or as Bonnie would smartly say, irrationally irritated. Because whether the girl meant to or not, she treated Elena like a fascinating project, something she could poke at and expect it won’t bite back. Because Elena Gilbert, in her eyes, was an anomaly she didn’t understand in her little, very narrow worldview.

She tried to have Elena fit into her neat, organized boxes. And when Elena refused, she persisted as if it’s her personal mission to do so. If it weren’t for how annoyed Elena felt about someone trying to do that to her, Elena would almost be amused by how frustrated Caroline seemed by Elena’s very own existence.

It’s a feeling Elena’s intimately familiar with.

Which is why Elena’s first words were unsurprisingly, “What do you want?”

It’s amazing even to her how her own vocal chords managed to make her sound cordial at all.

Caroline didn’t seem at all deterred by her body language that practically screamed to leave her alone, and instead gave an even more inhumanely dazzling smile. Idly, Elena wondered if it was possible for a person to channel the sun with how blinding her sheer, forced enthusiasm was. If it was anyone but Elena, they probably would’ve recoiled and ran for the hills from the look.

“Oh silly!” Elena’s eyebrow arched. Nobody has ever called her that before. Caroline ignored her disbelief and rolled on. “Can’t I just say hello?”

“No.” Elena responded blandly, not budging. There was something about Caroline that just rubbed her the wrong way, made her _want_ to be difficult, stubborn. It wasn’t dislike or hate exactly, she knew what that felt like – white hot fire burning her retinas and all she could do was scream to the heavens _they did not deserve this_ – but not indifference either. An itch, a picked scab refusing to heal as jolts of infuriating bite twinged her memories with feelings that continuously _did not make sense-_

Elena breathed.

“Just tell me what you want.” She gritted out. She just wanted this to be over and away from wide blue eyes that warped into something that struck too close to home.

Caroline huffed, her cheeriness dropping in just that one moment before she shoved a hand in her pocket, which sent alarm bells ringing in Elena’s very paranoid brain, and got out-

An envelope.

Elena stared blankly at the pristine thick paper and then up to the blonde, completely nonplussed.

Caroline rolled her eyes. “What, you’ve never seen a birthday invitation before?” she asked, her words so outside of the left field that Elena was tempted to gape at her.

“No.” Elena answered truthfully.

Considering her best friend was Matt, who didn’t like making a big deal out of it and had them hanging out in the diner they’ve taken residence to ever since he and Jeremy created their truce, there was no such need. Tyler had awkwardly given a present to Matt after school and offered an apology to Elena, who in turn firmly said it wasn’t her he should be saying sorry to. To decide who was stiffer during that particular exchange between Jeremy and Tyler afterwards was hard to say.

They haven’t reached Bonnie’s birthday yet, which according to the raven haired girl, was usually just a family affair since she never really had much friends even before her mother left.

It made the brunette want to strangle the woman even more for stripping away Bonnie’s support system. It was the one thing both she and Sheila Bennett grimly agreed on, their tenuous peace with each other all in the balance of Bonnie’s happiness.

So no. She had no idea what a proper birthday party even was or how it worked. She didn’t even have any foreknowledge on the subject, her scrapped up memories coming up with nothing.

Caroline, for some reason, looked incredibly shocked and bewildered by this.

“But you’re, well, _you!”_ the girl floundered, as if it explained anything.

Elena didn’t know whether to feel offended or not.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Elena wanted to throw her hands up in the air from sheer frustration. She never thought she would meet someone who she couldn’t understand for the life of her. Was this how Bonnie felt whenever Elena said something beyond her grasp?

No wonder Bonnie complained she always has headaches whenever they talked.

Elena sighed and massaged her forehead. A child facing a child, and feeling so old in the process. It’s the start of a bad joke for a thousand year old immortal.

 _Huh._ Elena’s hand twitched. _A thousand years. She’s going to have to write that down._

“Just,” Elena shook her head. “Get to the point. Why are you giving me this?”

And then, of all the things that could happen, the blonde _blushed_.

Oh.

Oh, _hell_ no.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Elena felt something boiling deep inside her chest, a star waiting to explode and threatening to eat everything in its path. The corrosive, hungry void was leaving her empty with nothing but fury. She can’t remember if she’s ever been this enraged before in her life.

_Too close. This was all too close._

Elena, who hated getting close to people, who had alligators and moats around her personal space, took a step forward until they were half a foot away. A derisive, wolfish sneer that was all Petrova rage twisted her into a malevolent figure of myth. (How close to the truth that was.)

 _She’s just a kid._ Something whispered inside her.

She didn’t care.

“I refuse to be used like this. I’m not going to play messenger for you, and I’m not going to listen to someone who’s going to use me and throw me away like a tool. Just because you played nice so far doesn’t mean I’m going to accept the conciliation prize or change the fact I’m nothing to you. I am a person, I am me, and I won’t have you take that!” she snarled out with venom, everything blurring and threatening to overwhelm her. Nothing was making sense anymore, all she could discern was the feeling of betrayal cutting her heart and leaving her dead.

_(The noose destroyed her ability to breathe, black spots in her vision until darkness came. All she thought was survival and sweet words turning into orders of her death. Everything he said, from the very beginning, was a lie. An elaborate trap full of tenderness and peace. How clever of him to use love against her.)_

“You should’ve been honest from the start, instead of trying to play nice.” She hissed. By this point, she didn’t know who she was talking to. “You shouldn’t have tried to act kind when we met. You shouldn’t have been curious about me, or talk to me. It would’ve hurt less when I die-”

She nearly bit off her tongue, reality slamming back into place.

Instead of a man whose face was still a blur to her, a mystery she couldn’t unravel with words and images slipping away like smoke, a little girl stood in front of her. A girl who stared at her with fear and shock, unable to derive where the brunette’s wrath had come from. An innocent victim from the flurry of emotions that was dumped onto her unwillingly and undeservedly.

Horror and guilt slapped Elena in the face, quickly overtaking her like a virus. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

_Why did she say that?_

“I’m sorry.” She gasped out before doing what she did best.

She ran.

**-A-**

Sheila Bennett was sitting in her kitchen drinking tea alone when something close to an avalanche pounded on her door. It was a frantic sound, demanding and urging her to hurry.

She felt a sharp spike of worry before quickly going to the door and jerking it wide open.

It was Elena Gilbert like she’s never seen her before.

There was none of the shrewd smirks that sparked with knowledge she shouldn’t know. No quick-witted quips that always had Bonnie snickering, eyes dancing with entertainment. There wasn’t even that pensive look the doppelganger sometimes got, looking so world-weary and gaunt that Sheila couldn’t help but shove hearty meals in her stomach until she looked less like a lifeless corpse.

The ten year old looked haunted and terrified out of her mind, something wild in the way she looked at the witch. A cornered animal with nowhere else to turn. More importantly though, there was guilt. So much guilt that it could fill an entire ocean, self-hating and human in a way the usually untouchable girl never was.

She never resembled a mythological being more than she ever did in this moment.

It was heartbreaking beyond words.

“I have tea.” Was all Sheila said before inviting the traumatized, walking legend inside.

They were overdue for a long talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review on the way out. And check out my tumblr page, aerialflight.tumblr.com


	5. rippling revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I am so happy I managed to finish this, hahaha! Writing Sheila was pretty difficult and I hope I did her justice. She’s an awesome character and didn’t get much screen time. Exam week sucks and this was really stress relieving for me. Thank you so much for waiting patiently for this chapter, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Elena didn’t know where to even start.

Drinking the chamomile tea has calmed her down by a small fraction, but her hands still shook. A tree with its branches blown away by the inner turmoil howling in her breakable body.

The only thing keeping her tethered was the piercing, patient look Sheila was shooting in her direction. So much like her granddaughter who never pushes her either. If Elena was a hurricane, Bonnie was the earth, strong and firmly rooted with a will to keep moving forward no matter how battered she was.

Elena knew out of the two of them, Bonnie would always be the stronger one. It’s a relieving thought because it meant she didn’t need Elena. She simply needed someone to show her that she can stand up on her own two feet and carry on, that nothing can pull her down. The power that had drawn Elena to her like a moth to a flame would protect her, Elena knew it would.

Selfish as it was, being friends with someone who Elena was confident could take care of herself was one less burden Elena had to carry. She didn’t want any more deaths to be on her hands.

Closing her eyes, Elena remembered the thousand questions that had scurried in her mind for weeks ever since meeting the older woman. The humming energy that thrummed in every wall she passed felt strong, capable. Fitting for the woman who kept darting her calculative looks and wary eyes. It only confirmed her growing suspicion that there was something wrong with her. A possible danger to people surrounding her. If someone as powerful as Sheila Bennett was cautious around her, there must be a reason for it.

So she swallowed back the enquiries and waited.

And now, when she finally has the chance to speak her mind, nothing came out. Guilt and terror were killing her words and at that moment, she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know what made her spit out all those accusations at the blonde. An innocent who had instigated another trigger she didn’t know she had. If her breakdown from Jeremy calling her mom was bad, it was nothing compared to this.

Nobody but her got hurt last time, and that was an easier pill to swallow than seeing Caroline’s face twist into fear. Fear of her and the insanity that clung onto her like a parasite.

Last time, Jeremy had been afraid _for_ her. Even Elena, twisted and maddened as she was, knew the difference.

Something must’ve shown on her face, because Sheila’s features softened a touch and she carefully reached for her trembling hands. She held them, body heat warming Elena’s fingers and the cold sweat on her palms.

She felt like a child and it felt like a lie.

“Am I a monster?” she blurted out, finally shattering the lulling silence. She searched Sheila’s face for clues, desperate to have a concrete answer.

The long pause she received in return left her drowning every second. Uncertainty is an ocean with no bottom.

“Monsters are made, not born.” Sheila finally said, experienced and steady voice keeping Elena afloat. “And you, Elena Gilbert, did not choose this.”

Elena felt herself crack at those words, a roaring sea crashing against the glass dam that was her mind. Memories trickled out of the fissures formed from the relentless attacks. Anger directed at no one and everyone raged in her little chest that held a vastness open as the galaxy.

Without thinking, Elena ripped her hands away from comforting heat and slammed a hand on the table. The cups quaked from the lightning strike movement.

“How do _you_ know?” She could feel herself bare her teeth, white and threatening as jagged ice imbedded in human necks. “What am I that would make you so afraid of me?”

_What was she that made her so afraid of herself?_

Sheila sighed. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but in her sunlit kitchen that embodied the word home and sanctuary, just to get away from Elena’s tainting presence.

It was to be expected. Who would want to deal with a natural disaster like her? Yet all the same, a pang of hurt caved Elena's black hole of a heart.

“I’m not afraid of you.” the Bennett said. Staring at her square in the face, brave and stubborn. It’s so reminiscent of Bonnie that Elena felt her fury shrink to something manageable at the sight.

 _Weak_ , the void hissed.

 _Good_ , a smaller voice whispered. _You're learning._

“There’s a difference between fear and caution. History has proven it wise to do so.” Sheila sipped her tea serenely, not attempting to touch again and simply waiting. It irked Elena to see her act so tranquil while her own world was falling apart.

“What _history?”_ Elena spat, half expecting blood to splatter across the wooden surface of the table out of her mouth. Defiance always involved blood, some form of punishment always in line of such an ill-advised course. “The kind that kills or makes people go insane? Makes them see things that can’t be real? Or do things that don’t make any sense? The one that-that...” Elena felt herself stumble, frustration making her want to scream. _Happened to someone else?_

What had she been thinking? Why did she want answers? How could she be so selfish to wish this on _anyone?_ So what if the thought of not being alone in this madness would be a comfort blanket for her? To wish this riot of confusion and chaos on anyone must be formed out of her own greed, for what else could it be? To be alone was to hurt only herself, and the fact she wanted someone to be in as much pain as herself must be the desire of someone truly wretched.

Or maybe... Maybe it wasn’t real at all. Simply all in her head, spreading poison and swallowing her whole in a desperate attempt of denial. This curse had her doubting and screaming at someone that her intuition was calling _witch_ like they were _real_ and _god_ , what if it’s not real at all? What if nothing she knew was real and she was fooling herself?

That it wasn’t magic or monsters. Just a little delusional girl who should be locked up and away from normal people. She was dangerous and would pull down everyone with her in the mud. Matt, Bonnie, _Jeremy-_

A rage-filled snarl left her mouth and she slammed the river of doubt back with all the willpower of David facing Goliath. She may be small, but inside her was a never-ending well of determination and refusal to run. A knowingness so innate that it might as well be etched in her heart, ordered her not to budge. Once you start running, you never stop.

She’ll swim against the relentless tides no matter how tiring it was. She couldn’t sink just yet. For her loved ones, for herself.

Elena let out a shaky breath, willing all her misgivings and fear to leave her body in that one rebellious act. The pounding of her heart, the whispers that trail after her, weren’t fake. It was her truth, and she’ll stick with it.

“I remember things, know things I shouldn’t know.” she was tearing herself apart, the confession making it feel more solid, more crazed than it sounded. She clenched her fists, knuckles bone white. “I hear things that aren’t there, telling me what I should do and showing me what happens if I don’t. I feel like there’s someone else inside of me, trying to make me, _force me_ ,” her shoulder jerked, ripping away from urgent whispers brushing against her neck to hold her attention. “to be something I’m _not.”_

“So tell me.” Elena glared at Sheila Bennett, holding back the despair threatening to consume her. “Tell me what I am, oh great wise one.”

_I dare you._

**-A-**

Sheila decidedly concluded her life was a never ending soap opera she couldn’t get away from no matter how much she wanted to. Words couldn’t begin to describe how relieved she was that Bonnie had decided to not come and visit today.

If only she were so lucky to escape this predicament. She didn’t want to deal with this. To face this little girl desperately holding together the pieces of her soul and dumping it onto Sheila’s lap, demanding answers. Answers that may or may not run a knife straight through the girl’s heart.

It was a good thing Elena Gilbert wasn’t looking for kindness, for Sheila was not kind.

Sheila almost wanted to smile grimly at the girl’s foolhardy bravery and unclouded eyes. Such an attitude was going to get her killed one day.

So the witch didn’t hesitate to open her mouth and tell an old tale about the origin of vampires and a face that has haunted history with her Helen of Troy reputation. The kind that ruined dynasties, families, and natural laws that were never meant to be broken. All in the name of love that sent good men spiraling to their doom and destruction. A truly beautiful, sad story that would make skeptics scoff and romantics weep.

Elena did neither. She simply stared at her with clenched hands and gritting teeth, both actions growing tighter and tenser at every condemning word spilling out of Sheila’s mouth. Sheila had carefully not said any names, a fact that Elena seemed to deeply appreciate. It seemed to create a sense of distance for the girl, an outside perspective for an account that was too personal and tragic for mere words.

It wasn’t intended, but Sheila decided to omit the Salvatores in her retelling, especially the hidden deal between one Damon Salvatore and Emily Bennett. The pair of brothers were collateral damage at best and had nothing to do with the Petrova doppelgangers’ main history.

Besides, the rest was still damning and overwhelming enough. Sheila made an effort to not be accusing or squarely put blame on a young girl’s shoulders. But Elena wasn’t dumb, never has been. She understood that with such a tangled legacy, it made matters more complicated and murky when it came to pointing out who was the guilty party.

It was the only time Elena had interrupted, voice quiet and so heavy with guilt that Sheila almost looked away in respect of it.

“I remember some things. I don’t know if it’s my past self, but I have memories that aren’t mine.” Elena explained while looking haunted, her previous rushing words making more sense in context with this clarification. She continued to dish out more proof, as if Sheila needed any to believe her. Knowledge and skills a child shouldn’t have known, visions and feelings that were confusing and didn’t make any sense, and most of all, how Elena met Bonnie.

“You felt her magic?” Sheila couldn’t help but interrupt, incredulous. There was nothing in the Bennet’s books or notes about doppelgangers that mentioned anything like that.

For the first time since this entire conversation began, Elena smiled that infuriating smile which made her look older than she actually was.

“I could feel your magic all over this house too.” She admitted, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

That should be impossible, though was it really? The doppelgangers, by all means, were magical vessels themselves. And with Elena’s situation, anything was possible by this point. Still, the implications sent the witch’s mind whirling from how incredible it was and yet, here they were. A ten year old little girl whose face was identical to someone else’s a millennia ago was sitting at her dining table with sad, sad eyes and friends with her granddaughter.

Honestly, the ancestors or someone up there must be laughing at her right now.

They managed to move past the issue and Sheila went into explaining the dangers of being a doppelganger, something that had Elena paling yet curling her lips with grim acceptance that twisted Sheila’s chest. No child should look that resigned.

It felt like hours before Sheila finished, throat sore and soul weary. Elena didn’t look much better as she ran a hand through her chestnut locks that shined dimly under the kitchen lighting. Everything about her screamed exhausted and Sheila belatedly realized that it was late and the Gilberts were probably panicking at the fact their daughter never came home after school, seeing how Elena had immediately went to Sheila’s.

Sweet ancestors, how was she going to explain all this to them? _Should_ she say anything? Certainly not the truth, Grayson had always insisted that Elena shouldn’t be at fault and was a normal girl who just happened to be connected to the Petrova bloodline. Sheila knew the man loved his daughter more than anything, but he was a realist. Both of the Gilberts were.

The fact of the matter was, Sheila wasn’t completely sure how either of them would react, and the uncertainty was enough for Sheila to not say anything and risk Elena’s welfare. She almost wanted to laugh bitterly at this newfound realization.

What did it say about the Gilberts that Sheila wasn’t sure about trusting them with their daughter’s safety?

 _Adopted daughter._ She stomped down on the thought and firmly thought to herself that it shouldn’t matter. She still hadn’t told Elena that part, and she wasn’t about to open that can of worms now. The girl was dealing with enough revelations already.

“I should go home.” said girl snapped Sheila out of her brooding, looking ready to collapse right then and there on the dining table. Sheila shook her head in negative.

“It’s late. I’ll call your parents and tell them you’re sleeping here.”

Elena’s shoulders slumped and she couldn’t completely hide the sheer relief shining in those glittering eyes that always reminded the Bennett of nature sprites you’d hear about in myths. It was relieving to see a hint of the wild thing Sheila knew the girl to be. That she hadn’t lost that spark even with this new self-awareness was an encouraging sight.

The girl stood up from her seat unsteadily and simply stayed in place, staring at her.

“You-Are you going to tell anyone about this?” she stumbled out, her fear subtle in the taut way she held herself. So guarded and defensive, her bridges pulling themselves up in an effort to protect her current fragile state.

Seeing her put on this worn-out armor, Sheila knew she already had come to a decision and just didn’t want to admit it.

“No.” she sighed. Goddamn it, she knew this was a bad idea. “This is between you and me.”

Elena narrowed her eyes, sharp and quick as a whip.

“What about Bonnie?”

 _“No.”_ Sheila didn’t even need to think twice about that one. “I don’t want her to get mixed in with this. Not yet.”

She had to add that last part. It was inevitable Bonnie would get involved. Sheila wasn’t blind as her daughter Abby and with Elena’s confirmation that Bonnie had magic, Sheila knew better than anyone what it was like to deny a part of yourself. Bonnie already has lost so much. Sheila wasn’t going to take this away from her too, even if it was dangerous.

It would be Bonnie’s choice in the end anyway. And knowing her granddaughter, Bonnie would want to be right in the thick of it. Especially for her friends.

Why oh why did her granddaughter have to be too loyal for her own good?

And Elena, who was too old and too kind – a trait Sheila was slowly starting to realize was Elena’s greatest strength and weakness – would of course be the type to do the same for Bonnie. It was the only reason why Sheila was willing to entrust Bonnie to her in the first place.

What a pair the two made.

 _She shouldn’t get involved at all._ Elena’s pained face screamed this, for she was just as aware what Bonnie would choose as well.

Sheila didn’t know whether to cry from relief or premature loss. At least they would have each other.

“What you said about me not being a monster,” Elena abruptly started, pushing aside the pained topic with pure steely will with another difficult subject. “What if you don’t have a choice in being a monster? What if people just do what they have to do and become monsters without them noticing or caring?”

Elena looked conflicted, the words not her own but for the memories of someone else that she didn’t know yet couldn’t help but care about. _God_ , Sheila thought, no one this _good_ should be dealing with any of this.

The old Bennett walked up to the little girl, who was willing to take a bloody past and claim responsibility for it, and crouched down to hug her close. Sheila had half expected her to stiffen at the contact or deny herself the small comfort. But in the end, Elena was still a child. The girl melted in her arms and both simply breathed, taking comfort from another human being who _understood_ , whose presence proved they weren’t alone.

“Everyone has a choice.” Sheila rubbed the girl’s back with her thumb in little circles, the movement soothing. She surprised herself with how fiercely she wanted to shield this hurting child. “Some people have it worse than others, but what they choose to do with their fate is what makes them who they are. Monsters are people built up on bad, selfish decisions thinking its right. As long as you know what’s wrong, as long as you want to be better than how you are now, there’s always a chance to change. You just have to be brave enough to go for it.”

Sheila wasn’t talking about Katerina Petrova. She didn’t know anything about the previous doppelganger who was god knows where causing whatever trouble wherever she was. She wasn’t going to lie to Elena and tell her there might be hope for a woman who manipulated and broke hearts as if it were a game.

No, this was to Elena. A reminder for both of them.

The future was looming and unknown to either of them. But Elena had a good heart, and Sheila was going to do whatever it took to make sure Elena still had one in the end.

No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a review at the end if you like, and check out my tumblr page if you want to send messages or read snippets.
> 
> aerialflight.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Please review on the way out.


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